Mudblood, Like me
by lamentations
Summary: Draco needs a topic to right about in the newspaper. During Muggle Studies, an idea hits him.
1. Default Chapter

            Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, which belongs to JK Rowling. I don't own any of her characters, including Draco (unfortunately.)

A/N: Um, this won't be a romance between Draco and Hermione… hopefully. In fact, if it will go the way as planned, it will hardly be a romance. Though… I can't help adding SOME sexual tension between them. I mean really, who CAN'T!

He walked into the room, scowling at the red and gold décor. Gryffindors and their damned pride. He took a seat on the chair behind the desk. Surely, he could not sit on the small one. 

She walked in. He had to admit, she had grown. Her body had curves, her eyes were now framed with beautiful lashes, and her hair, though still slightly frizzy, was just yelling for him to put his hands through. He wondered why he hadn't done the love 'em and love 'em trick on her yet. 

"This is crap, ferret," she said. "I can't believe this load of sh… I mean, crap that you gave me."

Oh, right. She was still the know-it-all, goody-goody, Gryffindor, Potty/Weasel-lover she was before. 

"Crap?!" he said, angrily. "That paper was written beau—"

"Oh, no, Malfoy. It was written well, I have to admit to that. But no one will want to read this!" 

"Oh, yeah? And why is that, mudblood?"

She glared at him. "Simple. The title, look at it. Do you really think that people would really like reading about how Slytherins are the best all the time?"

Draco scoffed. "Well, it's true."

She glared at him. "Malfoy, this is it. Your last chance. I've been getting too many bad articles from you. If you don't give me something good next time, I'll—"

"You'll what? Tell Dumbledore to kick me off? You know you can't do that."

"Your right. I can't kick you off. But I _can demote you."_

Draco laughed. "No you can't. The only position open is sports, and I'm on the quidditch team, mudblood."

"That's where you're wrong, Ferret Boy. Lavender and Patil want a boy's point of view on the gossip column. I think they'll love the idea of working with you."

Draco, if possible, paled. 

"Good," Hermione said. "You understand me now." And with that, she left. Leaving Draco to think to himself. 

Truth be told, he actually _liked writing. He had denied to all his friends, saying that these new wizard-colleges (an idiot's idea based on muggle schools) like these type of groups. But, Merlin, what __was he going to write about?_


	2. I expect you know what he's writing abou...

A/N: Hope you like it! Read my other stories, too. 

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Don't sue. 

~

A/N: This is kind of in Draco's POW. Except for in third person.

            He walked into the room, scowling.How could they put _him _in this wretched class? 

            He entered the room, seeing the Gryffindors chat excitingly to each other. The other Slytherins were scowling like him. Well, not like _him _of course, because they weren't as good as he was. 

             "Punctuality is a key essential in my class, Malfoy," a female voice said. 

            He looked up at the teacher. _She's pretty good, _he thought. _Maybe I'll be able to catch a snog with her. _

"Well?" she said, breaking him from his thoughts. "Sit down."

            He scowled again. He couldn't believe that they made _him_ take this class. Nevertheless, he sat down. 

            "Hello, mate," a deep voice behind him spoke. 

            "Blaise, you git," he answered. "How many time's have I told you not to sneak up on me?"

            "Hm," he started. "Many? Plus, I wasn't sneaking up on you, old bloke."

            "Boys!" the teacher said, annoyed. She then retained her poised, calm composure. "Attentiveness is also—"

            "A key essential in your class, we know," Draco interrupted, bored. 

            The teacher's eyes narrowed, and she turned back to the bored. She started writing some words. 

Black, Like Me

            She then underlined it and stood back to the class. "This," she said, holding up a book, "is what you've been reading for homework, if you haven't noticed. I hope you enjoyed it"

            He scowled again. He had never enjoyed a book written by a muggle and he bloody hell wasn't going to start now. 

            "Malfoy, if you keep on scowling so habitually, it will be permanently plastered on your face," the teacher said. 

            Some Gryffindor girls started giggling, no doubt those bubbly friends. What were there names? Pada and Violet? _Some color, _he remembered. He stopped himself from scowling at them. 

            "We will be discussing them in class today," she said, sitting on the table, crossing her legs. He could have sworn seeing Ron drooling. 

            "Hopefully, it will be a debate. You know how my discussions are, free speech, I don't really care what you say as long as it is relevant," she said. 

            The class was silent. 

            "Well, go on," the teacher encouraged. 

            "GO!" she snapped. 

            Draco started, boringly. "I think this book is stupid. Muggles are mad. The color of your skin doesn't matter. I don't see why muggles should treat people differently just because they're black or white."

            "You mean how wizards treat muggles, muggleborns, and half-bloods the same way?" Hermione said, her eyes challenging his. 

            "That's different," he said. 

            "Oh, is it?"

            "Yes. The blood of your family is important. It shows your social stasis, your family, your connections—"

            "Just as the whites?" she said. 

            "It's completely different," Draco said. 

            "Yes? Well I think BOTH are unfair. You have no choice of the family you are born to, and no one should blame you."

            "But you're parents do," he said, challenging her even more. 

            "My parents had no idea that wizards existed."

            "Then they should have kept it that way, mudblood. They should bugger off. No one _asked _them to have a child. For all I cared, they could just go crawl up in a ball and die."

            "SHUT YOU'RE BLOODY MOUTH!"

            "Blimey, Granger, I didn't know you cared about my mouth," he said, having his fun.           

            "I DO WHEN IT'S SAYING THINGS ABOUT ME AND MY FAMILY!"

            "My family and I," he corrected. He mentally laughed, as Granger had not lost her cool, confident, calm composure for a while. (A/N: Haha! Alliteration!)

            "UGHHHH! YOU—YOU LAZY PRICK.!"

            "Is that the best you could come up with, Granger?" he asked, smirking. "Pity, I expected better than you."

            "YOU'RE SUCH AN ARROGANT GIT! NOT ONLY THAT, YOU'RE AN IMBOCILE! NO, WAIT, YOU'RE A—"

            "Sexy bastard?" he suggested. 

            "UGHHH!" she said, and stormed out of the room. 

            The teacher smiled. "Now, class, wasn't that fun?"

A/N: Wow. This is better than I thought it would be. Mind you, I still think it is crappily written, but I expected worse. 

**vinnyvampire****: **Lol. Yes. She has to be mean to him. It's no fun when they both turn completely good. 

**Beckham7: **That _is _a good idea. Maybe I should write something like that for an extra chapter. 

**Daintress****: **Did I look at your fics yet? I try to do it with all of my reviewers. I'm glad that was a good threat.   
            


End file.
